


Melt It All Away

by Nutkin



Category: Disney RPF, JONAS RPF, Jonas Brothers
Genre: Brotherly Love, Car Sex, Cliche, Fluff and Smut, Frottage, Grinding, Huddling For Warmth, Humor, Incest, M/M, Making Out, Sharing Body Heat, Sibling Incest, Smut, Tropes
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-03-07
Updated: 2019-03-07
Packaged: 2019-11-13 09:21:43
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 7,960
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18029081
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Nutkin/pseuds/Nutkin
Summary: Nick and Joe get trapped in a car in a snowstorm, and have to share body heat in order to survive. Star Wars references, brotherly teasing, and orgasms ensue.





	Melt It All Away

**Author's Note:**

> I wrote this for the Joick community cliche challenge, using the "characters are stuck somewhere cold and have to share body heat" trope. It was supposed to be a short little comment fic, but I had way too much fun writing it to stick to a word limit.
> 
> This is set sometime around 2010, when Nick was on his Administration tour.

  
"This is all your fault," Nick says.  
  
"It is not."  
  
"Yes, it definitely is. You're the one who was all, 'Oh, let's take the Mustang out. Let's take the weekend and drive to your next show. Open road, wind in our hair, blah blah blah'."  
  
"How is it my fault that it started snowing?"  
  
"You—" Nick unplugs Joe's iPhone from the car stereo and throws it at him. "We have a million gadgets, okay? I think you could have checked the weather."  
  
"I'm sorry there's not an Unforeseen Act of God app, Nicholas. Look, just – we have to call someone for help."  
  
"Yeah, that would be my first move, too, except I'm not getting any signal."  
  
Joe fishes his phone out of the crumpled McDonald's bag it bounced into. "Oh. Me neither."  
  
Nick slaps his hands against the steering wheel and makes a frustrated noise.  
  
"Great. That's just great. We could have taken a trip in, I don't know,  _our private jet_ , and instead we're going to die on the side of the road in the middle of nowhere."  
  
Joe sighs and runs a hand through his hair. "We're not going to die. I'm sure there's a town around here somewhere."  
  
Nick leans forward to peer up at the sky. It's gone strangely dark, a sharp contrast to the thick whiteness swirling around the car.  
  
"You want to walk in that?" he says. "Because I really, really don't."  
  
"Yeah," Joe says, turning up his collar. "Better to go out Donner Party style."  
  
"I'm glad you can be so flippant about this," Nick says. "What are we going to do?"  
  
Joe shrugs and fiddles with his phone, trying to pull up the internet. It's no use.  
  
"I don't know. You watch cop shows – can't they just use GPS to figure out where our phones are? Like, if we actually do get stuck here forever?"  
  
Nick looks like he's trying to think up an argument for that, but he finally just lets out a sigh and leans back in his seat.  
  
"This really sucks."  
  
Joe tucks his hands in his pockets and peers out the window. It's hard to see anything but white.  
  
"Pretty much," he agrees.  
  
It's another two hours before the car starts making a weird dinging noise.  
  
"Uh," Joe says. "Is it going to explode?"  
  
"It's the battery," Nick says. "The battery's about to die, which means the heat is going to go."  
  
Joe glances around the car, but it's not like they really packed for this. They're both wearing coats, but there aren't any blankets or anything.  
  
"What now?" he says when Nick slowly turns the key and the car goes still around them. It was pretty easy to be glib about the whole thing when the heater was still blasting on his feet, but it suddenly seems a lot scarier.  
  
"I don't know," Nick says.  
  
"What do you mean, you don't know?" Joe can hear a note of panic creep into his tone. "You always have a plan."  
  
"I don't exactly have wilderness survival skills, Joe," Nick says through his teeth. "I think you'd remember if I had been a boy scout at any point in our lives."  
  
"There has to be some way for us to, like, rig up heat. Right? Don't you have flares, or matches, or something?"  
  
Nick just raises his eyebrows at him and lifts his hands in exasperation.  
  
"Nothing?" Joe says. "Not even in your purse? I thought that thing was like Mary Poppins' bag."  
  
Nick heaves a sigh and reaches around to pull it out of the back foot-well.  
  
"I have two magazines, pens, my insulin kit, an apple and a pack of gum." He looks up at Joe and lets the flap fall shut. "If you can turn that into heat, you win at life."  
  
"Okay," Joe says, ducking as Nick throws his bag back where it was. "Okay, okay. Uh. How long do you think it'll take before the heat that's already in here seeps out?"  
  
Nick shoots him a look and props his arms on the top of the steering wheel, dropping his forehead against them.  
  
"I'm not Bill Nye the Science Guy, either," he says, his voice muffled. "An hour, maybe?"  
  
It gets unsettlingly quiet as they sit there. There are no other cars on the road, no whir of air in the vents. Nothing.  
  
Joe jiggles his leg nervously and watches the snow start to collect on the windshield. It only takes about twenty minutes before the whole thing is covered, blanketed in a thick layer.  
  
"They'll start looking for us," he says, more to calm himself down than anything. "Like, it won't take days or anything. As soon as someone calls one of us and we don't answer, they'll figure out something is up. They knew where we were driving, right? I mean, you definitely told Kevin—"  
  
"Yes, I definitely told Kevin," Nick says, tugging at the sleeves of his coat so they cover his hands. "They know where we are. It's just a matter of how long it takes them to start worrying."  
  
"Well, that's not so bad," Joe says. "Mom worries when she doesn't hear from you for more than a few hours even when we aren't, you know..."  
  
"Yeah."  
  
"...stranded in the frozen tundra with no way to signal for help."  
  
"I interrupted you so you wouldn't have to actually say it," Nick says.  
  
"Right," Joe says. "Sorry. I'm just, uh."  
  
"Freaking out." Nick looks over at him, and Joe notices he looks a little more pale than usual, his expression pinched and wan. "You're freaking out, dude, and it's not helping."  
  
Joe swallows and nods. He usually doesn't have to be the level-headed one, but without Kevin there to take control, he can't really let that entirely fall on Nick.  
  
"Are you getting cold?" he says after a few minutes.  
  
Nick breathes into his cupped hands and nods. "Yeah. The temperature is definitely dropping in here."  
  
Joe unbuckles his seatbelt. "It's time to huddle for warmth," he says decisively.  
  
"Huddle?" Nick repeats. "Really?"  
  
"Dude, it's that or lose your toes to frostbite. Come on." He gives Nick an elbow and raises his eyebrows. "When was the last time anyone actually offered to get in the backseat with you? Usually I'd want, like, dinner and movie. At least."  
  
Nick rolls his eyes, but the corners of his mouth tweak up a little. Joe takes what he can get.  
  
"Uh," Nick says when he pulls on the handle of his door. He jiggles it a few times and leans against it, but it doesn't budge. "The doors are frozen shut."  
  
"Good thing I'm limber," Joe says, twisting around and planting his knee in the passenger seat.  
  
"Watch the leather," Nick fusses. Joe puts a hand on top of his head and uses it for leverage.  
  
"What was that?" he says, propelling himself over the seats. "I couldn't hear you over the sound of your own pretentiousness."  
  
"Oh, bite me," Nick says, but when Joe flops his way into the back seat, he unfastens his own seatbelt. He's way daintier about it than Joe was, making it a point to put his foot on the plastic divider instead of the leather seat. He lets out a hard, irritated sigh when he lands next to him on the bench seat, tugging at his coat.  
  
"Huddle?" he says again.  
  
Joe holds up both arms. "Bring it in, buddy."  
  
Nick rolls his eyes, but he scoots closer, leaning his head against Joe's shoulder and wrapping an arm around him. Joe gives a dramatically loud sigh of contentment as he squeezes him, and Nick snorts.  
  
"Did Mom and Dad not hug you enough when we were little, or something?"  
  
"Shut up. You like it. If it weren't for me, the only physical contact you'd ever get is from deranged teenage girls. And that's just weird."  
  
"But this isn't," Nick says.  
  
"Um, we're fighting off hypothermia," Joe says, rubbing his cheek against the top of Nick's head. "This is the best excuse for hugging I've ever had."  
  
Nick makes a skeptical noise, but it's only getting colder. He turns his face against Joe's neck and burrows a little closer.  
  
"So much for our roadtrip," he says after a minute. Joe laughs.  
  
"Yeah. Well, we can always try again when it's not so... wintery."  
  
"Seriously. Why did we think this was a good idea, anyway? Don't we, like, pay people to talk us out of stuff like this?"  
  
Joe shrugs, but with Nick wrapped around him like that he can really only lift one shoulder.  
  
"It sounded like an  _awesome_  idea. I've wanted to just, you know, get away from stuff for a while."  
  
"Really?"  
  
"Sure," he says. "Don't you ever get sick of working all the time? It'd be nice to just go somewhere, do something. Be normal."  
  
"That's why we go on vacations," Nick mumbles, slipping his hand under Joe's jacket and wedging his fingers up under his arm, where it's warmest. "Like, Mexico? The Bahamas? Somewhere with beaches?"  
  
"Nah," Joe says. "That's still, like, rock star stuff. I mean going somewhere without paparazzi."  
  
"That doesn't exist," Nick says. "Even if we went on your epic American road trip, I mean, people have cameras and phones. People always just... keep tabs on us."  
  
"Yeah," Joe says quietly. He snorts suddenly, laughing against Nick's hair. "Uh, except now, when we could actually use it."  
  
Nick laughs too, sending a welcome huff of warmth down Joe's neck.  
  
"Yeah. Guess you got your wish."  
  
"Great," Joe says, holding out the word. "Alone at last."  
  
Nick snickers and shifts closer, until he's almost in Joe's lap.  
  
"Take it easy, Romeo," Joe says, though he tucks a hand around Nick's leg and pulls him in tighter. "I thought you were, like, above cuddling."  
  
"It's cold." Nick rubs his face there against Joe's neck, and his nose actually is kind of freezing. "It's definitely getting colder in here by the minute."  
  
"Yeah." Joe shifts around. "Give me your hand."  
  
Nick holds up the one that isn't in Joe's armpit, letting Joe grab it and rub it between his own. He thinks he can feel it getting a little warmer, but he blows on it for good measure.  
  
"Thanks," Nick says, sounding a little surprised.  
  
"Hey, these fingers are worth millions," Joe says, rubbing it again. "How can you play all those noodly rock songs without them?"  
  
Nick laughs and does his best to elbow him, which doesn't really work. He flexes his fingers a little between Joe's, making a fist that Joe cups his hands around. The metal of his ring is still cold to the touch.  
  
"Are you having fun?" Joe says, tracing his thumb over it. "I mean, on tour. Not being frozen to death."  
  
"Yeah," Nick says. "It's been really great. Not, you know, as great as doing it with you guys, but it's—"  
  
"Nice to be in front?" Joe suggests. Nick shrugs and nods. "You know, I wasn't totally sure you could pull it off."  
  
"What?" Nick twists around to blink up at him in surprise. "You kept telling me I'd be awesome at it. You're the one who convinced me to do in the first place."  
  
Joe laughs, dropping Nick's hand so he can tug Nick's scarf up around his face.  
  
"Okay, so I had a hunch. But you're really good at it. Better than I thought. Usually you're, like, Mr. Serious Artiste, but you actually connect with people that way. It's awesome. I just get out there and flop around."  
  
"Whatever," Nick says, scrunching his face up in disbelief. He rolls his eyes before he ducks back in against Joe's shoulder. "You could give Jagger pointers."  
  
Joe laughs again and tightens his arm around Nick's shoulder. He rocks him back and forth against his chest, humming happily.  
  
"Aw, Nick. You love me so much. I'm getting all warm and fuzzy inside."  
  
"I can't breathe," Nick grunts, but the hand that comes up to bat at Joe's arm is only half-hearted at best. "Shut up."  
  
"No, seriously, this is awesome. We should just compliment each other to fight off the cold. Has anyone ever told you that you have really pretty hair? It's so shiny. And it smells like—" Joe scrubs his face against the top of Nick's hair, breathing in deeply. "—mint. Hey, did you use my gel?"  
  
Nick wriggles around a little, kicking the toe of his shoe against the front seat. "I couldn't find mine this morning."  
  
"Uh-huh. It's cool, you don't have to be embarrassed about acknowledging my superior taste in hair products. I have it down to a science. Or art. Science? Which sounds better?"  
  
"Art," Nick mumbles.  
  
"There you go."  
  
They lapse into silence again, the wind picking up speed outside and whistling as it catches against the car. Joe shivers involuntarily when a particularly large gust shrieks by.  
  
"Relax," Nick says, though his voice sounds kind of thick. "We aren't by mountains or cliffs or anything. There's nothing to avalanche on us."  
  
"I guess that's, uh, comforting," Joe says. "I just thought it sounded freaky."  
  
Nick snorts and starts to shift away.  
  
"Whoa, where do you think you're going?" Joe says, gripping him tighter. Nick unhooks his leg from where it's been thrown over Joe's knee and pats at his stomach.  
  
"Have to check my levels," he says. "Which is slightly more important than being your personal heater."  
  
Joe hunches in on himself as Nick untangles himself and fumbles for his bag, the sudden lack of warmth shocking his skin.  
  
"God, it is really, really freaking cold in here," he says, wrapping his arms around himself and leaning down so his chest is against his lap.  
  
"I know," Nick says, squeezing his fingertip so he can get blood. He makes a frustrated noise and holds it out to Joe. "Help?"  
  
Joe gives himself another second of huddling before he straightens up and takes Nick's hand. He rubs it harder this time, worrying it back and forth until the friction warms his own fingers.  
  
"Thanks," Nick says. They both wait for the machine to beep.  
  
"How is it? Are you going to go into a coma? Because you can eat part of me if you have to. I'd really prefer it if you didn't, but I'd make that sacrifice. Or maybe we could eat the seats. Leather is technically cow, so there has to be something nutritional there."  
  
"No one is eating my car," Nick says, tossing the kit back in his bag. "I'm fine. I have that apple if worst comes to worst."  
  
"Oh. Good." Joe spreads his arms and beckons with his frozen fingers. "Will you please climb on top of me again?"  
  
Nick gives a huff that might be amused, but he clambers back into Joe's personal space without argument, tucking that leg across his lap and slipping his arm under Joe's coat.  
  
"This was actually a good idea," he says, a little reluctantly. "We'd be popsicles right now if you hadn't thought of it."  
  
Joe makes a noncommittal noise and pulls Nick closer. "I mean, my first thought was to cut open a tauntaun and climb inside of it, but this is the wrong solar system."  
  
Nick laughs. "Um, you'd need a lightsaber for that."  
  
"Oh, yeah," Joe says. "Doesn't it seem like a lightsaber would be a heat source, anyway? Like, it's a laser."  
  
Nick shrugs. "If we're ever stranded on Hoth with the Rebel Alliance, you can huddle with your lightsaber. I'm totally getting inside the tauntaun."  
  
"Nah," Joe says, adjusting Nick's scarf. "I'd get in there with you."  
  
"They aren't that big," Nick points out, as though this scenario might actually happen. "It's not like Han could have crawled in there with Luke."  
  
Joe sniffs. He can't really feel his nose anymore, like by moving away from each other they lost whatever accumulated heat they had going.  
  
"God, Nick, you're not kicking me out of the dead carcass of our tauntaun, okay? We'll just get cozy in there together."  
  
Nick actually giggles, muffling the noise against Joe's throat.  
  
"Okay, fine. We'll share it."  
  
"Thank you," Joe says, flinging an arm up in exasperation. Nick tilts his head a little so he can smile up at him. Joe smiles back, and for a minute he can almost forget they're stranded in this car with a snowstorm outside.  
  
"If we don't make it out of here—"  
  
"No," Nick says flatly, curling the hand that's tucked against Joe's side into a fist. He digs his knuckles against Joe's ribs. "We're not doing that."  
  
"Fine," Joe says. "Jeez. It just, you know, seems like the thing to do."  
  
"This is the twenty-first century," Nick says. "We're famous. And we have the world's most overbearing parents. We're not dying here."  
  
"Come on," Joe says, rubbing his hand up and down Nick's arm. "Aren't you even a little curious what my final confession would be?"  
  
"No," Nick says, but it comes out so fast that Joe's sure he's just trying to be argumentative.  
  
"Well, now you'll never know," Joe says. "Ever."  
  
"Good," Nick says.  
  
"Good," Joe returns, echoing his snotty tone. He can't resist adding, after a minute, "What would yours be?"  
  
Nick groans and wriggles his hand around, digging it under Joe's shirt so his cold fingers press right up against his skin. Joe makes a high-pitched noise that's just this side of a scream.  
  
"God, you suck," he says, kicking the back of the seat. Nick snickers against his neck. "Never mind, I don't even need to ask. Your dying words would just be something really obnoxious, like 'I shall live on forever in song'."  
  
"I hate you," Nick says, twisting around so he can shove his hand up Joe's shirt again. His fingers are like ice, stinging so sharply Joe gasps and shoves him onto the other half of the seat.  
  
Nick cracks up again, collapsing in a pile of stiff limbs and giggles.  
  
"So that's how it's gonna be, huh?" Joe says, climbing on top of him. "Playing dirty, Nicholas? 'Cause I'm pretty sure I taught you everything you know about that."  
  
Nick shoves at him helplessly as Joe tries to fight his way under Nick's buttoned up coat, but he's still laughing too hard to really put up a defense.  
  
"Stop," he huffs, slapping at Joe's hand. "Ugh, God, stop it—"  
  
He squirms around, narrowly avoiding kneeing Joe right in the nads as he tangles their legs together, looking for leverage. It's pretty hard to pin him down and get his coat open at the same time, so Joe gives up and just presses his hand against the side of Nick's neck.  
  
His skin's so warm there that Joe's fingers tingle at the change of temperature, his heartbeat suddenly throbbing down to the tips of them. Nick jerks away, aiming clumsy punches at Joe's shoulder.  
  
"Cut – it – out," he says, nearly throwing him into the foot-well. "You're gonna make us both freeze to death."  
  
Joe pauses, catching Nick's flailing arms and pinning them down.  
  
"Actually," he says, his breaths coming a little faster from the sudden burst of activity. "I'm not as cold now."  
  
Nick furrows his eyebrows, like this might be some kind of trick, but some of the tension goes out of him.  
  
"Yeah. Huh."  
  
"Because we're moving around," Joe says, the pieces slotting together in his nearly frozen brain. "Duh. That's how we can stay warm."  
  
He eases back from Nick, letting him sit up.  
  
"Uh, that's brilliant," Nick says, rubbing his hands together. "But how are we supposed to do that? Even if we could open the doors, we can't exactly run laps in a blizzard."  
  
Joe leans against the back of the seat, the warmth of that scuffle already starting to fade.  
  
"Well," he says. There's not really a good way to phrase it, but he has to throw it out there. "Uh. How do two people get physically active in the backseat of car?"  
  
It takes a minute before Nick looks over at him, his hands pausing halfway to his mouth.  
  
"You can't – no, you can't be serious. Joe. Come on."  
  
Joe throws his hands up. "Do you have a better idea?"  
  
Nick sputters. "We can just – the hugging thing was working."  
  
"It's not going to work forever," Joe says, tucking his hands in his pockets and leaning back over his lap. "We're running out of body heat, dude. We have to make more of it."  
  
Nick looks up at the ceiling of the car and shakes his head a few times.  
  
"That's so messed up. We can't – how would we even do that?" Joe lifts one shoulder and opens his mouth, but Nick cuts him off before he can even start. "You know what? No. No. I don't even want to—"  
  
"This is life or death," Joe says. "Think about it. Do you want to die here? Because I'd rather do that and pray about it for the rest of my life than, like, freeze to death when I'm in my prime."  
  
"No," Nick says flatly. He steals another look over at him, his cheeks going red. "We're – people are going to be looking for us, and they're going to find us, and everything will go back to normal, and we're just going to pretend you never suggested that we..."  
  
"Fine," Joe says. "You're probably right. If you're warm enough to blush, you're not going to freeze to death."  
  
Nick's eyes narrow. "I'm not blushing."  
  
"Yeah, you totally are," Joe says. He tugs one of his hands out of his pocket so he can poke Nick's cheek where it's pink and blotchy. Nick jerks away from the touch. "See? Nice and warm. I could toast marshmallows in that glow."  
  
"Shut up," Nick says. "And come here. We have to keep huddling."  
  
Joe slides closer, tucking himself around Nick again.  
  
"I don't get what the big deal is," he says after another minute. "It's not like I haven't heard you do it."  
  
"What?" Nick says incredulously. His shoulders stiffen under Joe's arm, and Joe nods, his cheek rubbing against Nick's hair.  
  
"Like, a billion times. We share a room. Even if you didn't do it when you thought I was asleep – which, by the way, usually takes longer than ten minutes – it's not like the walls of Marriott bathrooms are thick enough to block out the—"  
  
"Right," Nick says sharply. He pulls his shoulders up around his ears, and if they weren't both able to see their breath he would probably just throw himself in the front seat.  
  
Joe rocks him back and forth again and laughs. "Hey, it's not a big deal. You gotta do what you gotta do. I bet you've heard me going at it."  
  
Nick grunts, but he kind of sags against Joe's chest, like that does make him feel better.  
  
"Yeah."  
  
"See? No biggie. Don't be such a prude."  
  
Nick huffs, shifting in closer. "I'm not—"  
  
"Totally are," Joe sing-songs, pleased to be back on familiar ground. "That's what they'll put in your obituary. Nicholas Jonas, death by prudishness."  
  
"I'm not a prude," he says firmly.  
  
"Yeah?" Joe digs his fingers into his side. He can't really tickle him through the thick wool of his coat, and his fingers are so cold the whole thing is more of a jab, but Nick wriggles away like he gets the point. "How far have you gotten with a girl?"  
  
"Seriously?" Nick says. "That's seriously what you want to talk about?"  
  
"I don't know about you," Joe says, "but I can't really think about our current situation anymore without having, like, an epic nervous breakdown. There might be some crying involved. So yeah, I want to talk about that. Unless you've learned some new jokes?"  
  
Nick sniffs and rubs his cold nose against Joe's neck again. He's quiet for a minute, and then mumbles, "Just – you know. On top of the clothes stuff. Mostly. Once—" He breaks off awkwardly, and Joe gives him a little shake.  
  
"Yeah?"  
  
Nick squirms, pushing closer to Joe even as he makes an impressively irritated noise.  
  
"I got, like, a..." He pulls his hand away from Joe's shirt to make a clumsy jerking motion before tucking it back where it was. "But just through my jeans, and I didn't mean for it to happen, it just did, and—"  
  
Joe lets out a low whistle, lifting his head so he can look down at Nick.  
  
"Calm down, player." Nick tilts his face up to give him an embarrassed, resentful look, and Joe grins. He can't really feel his cheeks anymore, so moving his face feels weird. "It totally doesn't count if your pants were still on."  
  
Nick makes an expression Joe can't really read and looks away again.  
  
"Whatever. It felt like it counted." His hand creeps higher under Joe's jacket, like he's trying to climb into it with him. "What about you?"  
  
Joe hesitates for a second. It doesn't really seem fair to have pried that confession out of Nick without offering one of his own.  
  
"Camilla gave me a blowjob," he says through numb lips.  
  
"What?" Nick jerks upright and stares at him. "Really?"  
  
Joe yanks him back down, shivering at the sudden gust of cold air between them.  
  
"Yes, really. She was..."  
  
"What?" Nick says. He's gone even stiffer than when Joe called him on his tendency to groan at inhuman decibels when he jerks it in the shower. "She was what?"  
  
"She was just really, um, experienced?" Joe says. He isn't sure why this is spilling out, but he's so cold he can't even really think anymore. "That's why we broke up."  
  
"Really?" Nick says again, his voice rising in disbelief.  
  
"Yeah," Joe says, sniffing and tightening his arm around Nick's shoulders. "I mean, we weren't about to get married, and she, you know, wanted other stuff."  
  
"Why didn't you tell me?"  
  
"I don't know," Joe says, picking at the shoulder of Nick's coat. "I didn't want you to hate her, or think she was, like, the Whore of Babylon or something, seducing me to the dark side."  
  
"But she was," Nick says tightly.  
  
"No, she wasn't," Joe sighs. "Sex just isn't always something people wait to do."  
  
"It should be," Nick says. "God, I hate this stupid blizzard, and Camilla, and you. I can't believe you got a – a  _blowjob_  and didn't tell me! Do you know how bad I felt about that thing with Selena?"  
  
"Hey," Joe says, pulling Nick closer. He slips his hand between Nick's thigh and his own, shutting his eyes as the warmth seeps into his fingers. "Don't be mad at me. I didn't tell you because I didn't think you wanted to know."  
  
"I just didn't—" Nick shifts around, his voice going low and sulky. "I didn't know they were okay."  
  
Joe suddenly laughs, burying his face against Nick's hair again. "Uh, I think so? I still feel like a huge, weird, twenty-year-old virgin, so they must be."  
  
"It's not weird," Nick says stubbornly. "And I shouldn't have to be telling you that."  
  
"Lighten up," Joe says softly. "We're about to die from hypothermia, okay? Can we please not fight about this?"  
  
Nick nods as best as he can in that position. "Sorry. I'm just really cold."  
  
"I know, Nick," he says, shutting his eyes again.  
  
They both get quiet, and Joe lets his thoughts wander to what he might be doing if they weren't trapped in a frozen car in the middle of nowhere. Probably still driving, talking about Nick's next show and the venue he's all excited about playing. Maybe talking about where they'd stop for the night. He could really go for a hot shower and a warm bed right now.  
  
Joe loses track of how much time goes by before Nick's suddenly shaking his shoulder.  
  
"Joe!" he barks.  
  
Joe blinks a few times, a cold pit forming in his stomach when he realizes they're still in the car.  
  
"What?" he mumbles. He can't really feel his lips moving.  
  
"You fell asleep," Nick says, his face tense with worry. His words come out in short, awkward blurts, and Joe realizes after a second that his teeth are actually chattering. "I think that's bad. If we sleep, our body temperatures drop."  
  
"Right," Joe says. "Sorry."  
  
Nick shakes his head and shuts his eyes for a second. "I can't, um. I can't feel my feet anymore."  
  
"Oh," Joe says. He tries to wriggle his toes, but they feel like blocks of ice in his boots. "Yeah, me neither."  
  
"I think—" Nick bites his lip. "I think we need to do s-something."  
  
"Something?" Joe echoes. He brings his hand up to his cheek, rubbing at it. They feel equally cold, but at least moving his arm makes him feel a little more alert and alive. "What do you mean?"  
  
"Something," Nick says, widening his eyes. "You know. What you were talking about."  
  
That wakes him up.  
  
"Really?" Joe says, shifting around. His muscles feel tight from being in that position for so long. "Um, are you sure? After all that stuff about sex being evil?"  
  
Nick rolls his eyes and huffs, a combination that makes him really, really look seventeen.  
  
"Guys can't have sex together," he says, like this is a well-known fact. "We can just, you know, move like that. But if we don't do something to get our heart-rates up, we really are going to get hypothermia. It's been hours, Joe. We're totally – we don't have a choice."  
  
Joe nods a few times.  
  
"Okay," he says. "Okay, uh."  
  
"Here," Nick says. He grimaces as he moves around, his leg giving an audible crack as he sits up and shifts to the empty side of the seat. Joe isn't really sure what he's supposed to be doing, but Nick grabs the back of his neck and pulls him over, touching their faces together as he sinks down.  
  
"Wait," Nick says when Joe leans in over him. His hands move clumsily between them, popping open the buttons of his coat.  
  
"Isn't that kind of counter-productive?" Joe says. Nick shakes his head, yanking the sides of it open and then moving to unzip Joe's jacket.  
  
"We need to make friction," he says. "These are in the way."  
  
Joe swallows.  
  
"Right," he says.  
  
Nick doesn't quite look at him as he spreads his arms again, motioning for Joe to lay down. They both breathe in sharply at that sudden contact with someone else's body heat when Joe settles his weight over him.  
  
Joe shuts his eyes, sliding his hands under the open sides of Nick's coat to catch the warmth there.  
  
"Okay," he says. "Now what?"  
  
Nick makes an exasperated noise that vibrates through his chest. It's weird, Joe realizes after a second. It's really, really weird to be pressed together like this, head to toe. He thought this might be like that rough-housing they were doing earlier, just normal physical contact, but it feels... different.  
  
"You're the one with the  _experienced_  ex-girlfriend," Nick says. He catches his legs around Joe's and arches up against him. "Now you move."  
  
"You're so bossy," Joe says, but he rocks against him slowly, pressing his foot against the door for leverage. It only takes a few passes before his limbs stop feeling quite so frozen and stiff.  
  
Nick bites his lip and grips at Joe's shoulders, pulling him in closer so their chests are touching.  
  
"This isn't weird," Joe says. "Right?"  
  
"No," Nick says. "We're just trying to stay alive."  
  
"Exactly."  
  
Each slide up pulls at the material of Nick's shirt, pushing it up his stomach until Joe realizes he can actually feel it – the softness of Nick's skin right up against his own. He shuts his eyes and tries to get a grip, tries to focus on the fact that his face is practically touching Nick's and there's no way to forget that this is him.  
  
"It's working," Nick says after a minute, his voice low. "You feel it?"  
  
"Yeah," Joe says. "I feel it."  
  
Nick squirms then, rocking up against him in time with those tight little thrusts.  
  
"What are you doing?" Joe blurts out. One person doing it is bad enough, but that just – that just feels like something else.  
  
Nick huffs. "I have to get my heart-rate up, too," he says. "Like, the friction is warm and everything, but if I'm not moving I'm not contributing any body heat."  
  
"Uh." Joe starts moving against him again, a little more cautiously. "I appreciate that you're trying to help, but—"  
  
"But what?" Nick says, lifting his hips every time Joe moves against him.  
  
"Nothing," Joe says.  
  
He tries to keep his eyes shut, but somehow he and Nick wind up staring at each other, nose to nose. Joe studies his face, kind of surprised when color starts to come back into it. He presses his own lips together, marveling at how he can actually feel them again. Nick glances down at Joe's mouth and licks his lips, like he's having the same thought process.  
  
It takes another minute, but at some point Joe rocks down, Nick rocks up, and he feels the unmistakable press of Nick's dick through his jeans. He sucks in a surprised breath, his rhythm faltering for a second before picking up again.  
  
Nick swallows and looks away.  
  
"Don't say anything," he says. "Seriously, just don't."  
  
"It's okay," Joe says against his cheek. "That was the whole point."  
  
Nick makes a strangled noise that might be a laugh, so Joe adds, "You're not cold anymore, right?"  
  
"Not – really," Nick says haltingly, his fingers tightening around Joe's shoulders.  
  
Joe realizes after a second that Nick doesn't want him to stop. He's not totally sure what to do with that realization as he grinds down against him again, the jut of Nick's dick dragging from Joe's bellybutton down the front of his jeans.  
  
The reality of what they're doing hits him out of nowhere, his breaths going a little ragged as he does it again. And again. Joe shuts his eyes as his cock starts to flush stiff in his boxers.  
  
"Oh," Nick says sharply when he feels it. "Huh."  
  
"Yeah," Joe says, dropping his face against Nick's shoulder. He should probably stop now. His skin feels weirdly hot, and they can just do it again later if they need to. He blows out a slow breath as they move together, blurting out the offer before he can really think it through. "My, uh, my feet are still cold?"  
  
Nick makes a little noise, his fingers flexing. His voice comes out breathless and tight. "Mine, too."  
  
"So we should – keep doing this," Joe says, lifting his head to look at him. Nick's face has gone pink, his eyes a little glassy. "Right? So we don't get frostbite?"  
  
"Yeah," Nick says. "It's not weird. We're just really cold."  
  
"Really cold," Joe echoes.  
  
Nick squeezes his eyes shut for a second, and looks away when he opens them, his hands jerking down to Joe's hips.  
  
"Maybe if we just—" He shifts a little, holding Joe still, and suddenly their dicks are lined up just right, pressing together through the denim. Nick's face flushes even more as his hands come back to Joe's shoulders. "That's more – comfortable."  
  
"Yeah," Joe breathes. When they rock against each other again he can really feel it, the pressure of Nick's grinding into his in a way that sends a shock of pleasure all the way through him. "Good – uh, thinking."  
  
Nick's eyes fall shut again, his eyebrows knitting a little more with each slide. Joe stares at him as he moves. He's pretty far past the point of trying to gross himself out by thinking about this being Nick. Now he's just kind of fascinated, studying the way his lips part around his gusting breaths, the shine of spit on his teeth.  
  
"Oh," Nick mutters, chewing on his lip like it came out involuntarily. He turns his face against the back of the seat, pushing up harder when he meets each of Joe's thrusts. He has to be getting close – Joe's heard those noises more time than he can count.  
  
"Getting warmer?" Joe says, and Nick nods jerkily, tilting his face so he can look up at him through narrowed eyes.  
  
"Warmer," he huffs. Joe leans in, resting his forehead against Nick's. He drags his hips down deliberately, losing those longer, aimless strokes in favor of smaller, tighter ones. He can feel Nick's heart hammering against his chest, his ragged breaths hot and damp against Joe's lips.  
  
Joe can't really stop himself from tipping his chin up and pressing his mouth to Nick's cheek, dragging it artlessly up across the bridge of his nose. Nick laughs a little, not slowing his rhythm.  
  
"What are you doing?"  
  
"I thought your nose might be cold," Joe says. They've already stretched that excuse so far it might as well be taffy, so he just lifts his eyebrows as he jerks his hips.  
  
"Oh," Nick groans, his hand moving over to the back of Joe's neck. They're hot against his skin, shielding it from the cold air around them. He screws his face up, and Joe thinks he might be ready to blow, but instead he just makes another sharp little noise and mutters, "My, uh. Mouth is – cold, too."  
  
Joe's toes curl in his boots, a shock of heat hitting him right in the gut. He hadn't even imagined that, and for a second he can't process the idea.  
  
Nick glances up at him again, the stain in his cheeks getting even darker. They must already have hypothermia, Joe thinks, because there's no other reason he'd do anything as crazy as kiss Nick right on the mouth.  
  
Nick arches up against him, his fingers squeezing at the back of Joe's neck. It's just an awkward smash of lips for a second, and then it softens, Nick's lips parting enough for Joe's to catch against them. They are actually a little cold, more than the rest of him that Joe can feel, but inside – Joe groans when his tongue slips in against Nick's, where it's hot and wet and everything he's wanted to feel since the heat went out. Nick gives an answering groan, twisting his tongue against Joe's and leaning into it, letting him press deep.  
  
It's way too good, way better than kissing his brother has any right to be. Joe didn't even know how bad he wanted it, but suddenly the only thing that seems important is getting more of this. He sucks at Nick's bottom lip, shoving a hand down to grip his thigh and feel it when Nick jerks up against him.  
  
Nick suddenly goes tense, the kiss breaking off as he pants against Joe's chin and thrusts up against him recklessly. Joe has the faint, dizzying realization that he's getting Nick off just before Nick slams right into it, his whole body tensing and shuddering under him.  
  
"That's it," Joe says quietly, grinding down against him and watching the way it makes Nick's expression go slack. He gasps sharply and then slumps back, his head resting against the arm-rest of the door.  
  
"Whoa," Nick says, blinking up at some spot over Joe's shoulder.  
  
"Bet that warmed you up," Joe says, lifting his eyebrows at him. Nick's gaze moves over to his face after a second, still a little glazed over.  
  
"Yeah," he says breathlessly. "That worked."  
  
They just lay there like that for another beat, and then Nick suddenly lets go of Joe's shoulder, moving his hand between them until it's pressed right against the bulge of his dick.  
  
Joe swallows down a sharp noise, his hips jerking against Nick's palm before he can stop himself.  
  
"You don't, uh—"  
  
Nick studies his face as he tightens his hand, gripping at the shape of it and making Joe's whole body tense.  
  
"You said it doesn't count," he says. "Just – let me."  
  
Joe isn't really in any position to argue, so he just nods, sighing as Nick grinds his hand there. He's already too wound up from seeing that – feeling it happen right against him, and his arms shake a little when Nick's thumb suddenly rubs right against the head.  
  
"God," he mutters, his head dropping a little closer to Nick's. He starts rubbing him harder, right there, like he knows he's found the best angle.  
  
"Warmer?" Nick says, his voice cracking a little on the word. Joe can feel his face flushing a little, his breaths getting quicker.  
  
"Pretty – freaking warm," he pants.  
  
Nick grins suddenly, leaning up to kiss at the corner of Joe's mouth, and that's all it takes. Joe's fingers go tight against Nick's hip, his tongue moving in a clumsy, wet roll as he comes right in his jeans. Nick keeps up those squeezing pulls for another minute, trailing off as that kiss slows.  
  
Joe eases back carefully, the quiet noise their mouths make loud in the otherwise silent car.  
  
"Yeah," he says as he straightens up. "That really did the trick."  
  
Nick snorts, palming his hair down against his forehead as he shifts under him.  
  
"Maybe we'll live to see another day."  
  
It's a little awkward trying to figure out where to put their legs, but they both manage to sit upright.  
  
"Whoa," Joe says, pointing at his window as he zips up his jacket. They've all fogged over. "Check it out. I've always wanted to do that."  
  
Nick rolls his eyes, buttoning up his coat. "I'm glad you can check that off your things-to-do list."  
  
"Come on," Joe says. "That's pretty awesome. We're totally Jack and Rose right now."  
  
Nick just gives him a pained expression and leans over, fishing the apple out of his bag. He rubs it against the front of his coat before taking a bite out of it, and sucks a fleck of juice off his thumb.  
  
"They were on a sinking ship," he says as he chews. "Not trapped in a '68 Mustang in a blizzard."  
  
"Whatever. They still had hot sex in a car and then froze to death."  
  
"We're not going to freeze to death," Nick says shortly. He keeps his gaze fixed on the apple, studying it before taking another bite. "And that wasn't sex."  
  
Joe shrugs dismissively. "You're just mad because you know you're Rose."  
  
"I'm Rose?" Nick says, actually sounding a little offended. He holds his apple out, though, waving it around until Joe takes it. "Up until that haircut, you totally could have passed for a girl."  
  
Joe narrows his eyes at him as he takes a bite and hands it back.  
  
"You're the one who, uh—" He tucks it in his cheek as he chews, resting the back of his hand against his forehead. "Had a cold mouth."  
  
Nick kicks at his shin and hunches his shoulders. "Shut up."  
  
"It's okay," Joe says, reaching over to ruffle up his curls. "I'm pretty irresistible."  
  
"You know, it's still your fault we're here in the first place," Nick says tartly. "And that whole – thing was your idea."  
  
"Hey, it worked." Joe flexes his fingers, enjoying how easy it is. "And we're probably going to have to do it again in a while, so don't get all huffy at me."  
  
"Again?" Nick says, turning the apple over and taking another bite.  
  
"Well, it's gonna get cold in here again in, like, twenty minutes," Joe says, touching his hand against his window. It's shockingly cold against his palm, and he snatches it away again abruptly. "If that."  
  
"Oh," Nick says, looking over at the smeared handprint. "Right."  
  
"Aw, cheer up. Maybe next time I'll let you get past second base, huh? Since, you know, we already established that doesn't count, either." Joe smiles as he says it, like it's some big joke, but he's not totally sure if it is. It kind of seems like anything is possible at this point.  
  
Nick looks down at his apple, twin spots of red forming on his cheeks. He works his mouth a few times, steals a look up at Joe, and then chucks the rest of the core in the front seat, like he's just trying to do something other than acknowledge that comment.  
  
"So, uh," he says, clearing his throat and turning his collar up. "Weren't you going to tell me your dying words, or something?"  
  
Joe grins. "Nuh-uh, nope. Nice try. That was a one-time offer."  
  
"Come on," Nick says, leaning against Joe's shoulder. "If we don't make it out of here, and these are our last hours alive, what's the one thing you'd want to say?"  
  
Joe knows what he was going to say before, or at least the sentiment behind it. Something like,  _you're my favorite_ , or,  _I'm glad we've got each other_. Just one of the simple, reassuring things he's always said to Nick and never thought twice about. For some reason, though, he can't quite make himself say it.  
  
It's different when they're out there in the real world, surrounded by the craziness of their normal lives. Here, trapped in this car in the middle of nowhere with no one keeping tabs on them, no sound but the occasional gust of wind, it feels too honest and too raw. Impossible to pretend it's not at all connected to that thing they just did.  
  
Nick blinks at him, his amused expression slowly fading into something more like recognition. His eyes go a little wide as they stare at each other, neither of them doing anything. Nick's gaze drops to his mouth, a fresh tinge of pink settling over his face before he looks back up.  
  
The silence drags on just long enough for Joe to realize that this whole situation could get really, really serious.  
  
He swallows, his throat still raw from breathing all that cold air, and reaches out to grip Nick's shoulder.  
  
"Never let go, Rose."  
  
Nick's mouth falls open, his expression pure surprise before snapping into irritation.  
  
"I hate you," he says, throwing himself on top of Joe and aiming clumsy punches at his chest. "You're such a—"  
  
"Language," Joe trills, ducking away from those blows and swinging a few of his own. Nick wrestles him over on the seat, grabbing for Joe's hands and pinning them down.  
  
"This is all your fault," he says again. He leans in a little closer, until Joe can feel his breaths against his face.  
  
"It's not  _all_  my fault," Joe says, looking up at him. "It takes two to... you know." He lifts his hips, bouncing Nick a little. "Get stuck in a blizzard."  
  
"Yeah," Nick says quietly. Joe can feel his own breaths getting faster as Nick's hands shift on his, not quite pressing them down, but just touching them. "I guess."  
  
"I think it's getting cold again," Joe says, trying to let him know he wasn't totally yanking his chain.  
  
Nick's mouth suddenly pulls up in a little flicker of a smile.  
  
"It definitely is."  
  
"They might not even be looking for us yet," Joe adds, turning his hands over against Nick's. "We could be here all night."  
  
"It's just going to keep getting colder," Nick says, sliding his knees in at either side of Joe's hips.  
  
"Good thing we figured out how to stay warm, then, huh?"  
  
Nick shuts his eyes, settling his weight there in Joe's lap, but he opens them again when he starts to move his hips.  
  
"Yeah," he says, his mouth nudging closer to Joe's. "Good thing."  
  
The wind picks up again outside, battering against the side of the car as Joe closes the distance and kisses him.  
  
  
  



End file.
